Work Text:
It starts with tipsy kisses.
Pressed together among the crowd, Zig would have to be dead not to notice Mazie’s body heat, the curl of her fingers through his, the crooked slant to that smile he adores when she pulls him down to hear her over the blaring music.
“Having fun?”
He dips his head to graze his lips along the shell of her ear. “Always, with you.”
Pleasure lights the dark of her eyes just before she drags him into a kiss, lips soft and still faintly sweet with wine. It’s easy to forget all the people around them when she kisses him like this. He presses closer, trailing his fingers down the delicate line of her throat, and feels her moan under his mouth at the touch.
Kaitlyn's band is only halfway through their set when Mazie grabs him by the jacket, leading him swiftly from the crowd. He follows the sway of her hips back through the house, where the walls rattle with bass and empty hallways and there’s no one to notice their absence. No one to hear their footsteps scuff the floorboards, or her gasp when her back hits the wall and he drags his teeth down her neck. Her hair smells like honey and some flower he can’t name, heady and sweet, and he feels a little tipsier at just the briefest hint of it.
Her head falls back and a whimper climbs her throat, her fingers curling tight around a fistful of his shirt as he sucks the scent of wine and honey from her skin. A moan hums rough with longing in her throat. She digs her nails in at his shoulder, and he thinks of all the times she’s left stinging crimson lines across his skin, those little pains that ache in all the sweetest ways, distracting him at work, in class, whenever they’re apart.
Her cheeks are flushed and pink with heat when she dances loose from his arms, a glint of mischief in her eyes. Backing toward the hall, she tilts her head and bites her lip, gaze sinking slowly down his body before lifting to lock with his. “Are you coming, Mr. Ortega?”
Zig catches up in three swift steps and clutches hard at the fabric of her dress, the other hand winding into soft, dark hair as his mouth finds hers. The edges of her teeth graze his lip, her tongue following in a lazy sweep to soften the sting. Her mouth plants messy kisses along his jaw, and he takes in greedy drags of air as if he’s winded. It feels like every muscle in his body aches with craving, tense and restless, starving for the curves of her hips, and those beautiful thighs, and the heaven between them -
They stumble down the hall together, sharing kisses and dizzied laughter. He kicks the door shut behind them and shrugs hastily out of his jacket, eager to get his hands on her again. He cups her face between his palms, and her eyes drop to his mouth just before he kisses her again, lapping his tongue over her lip and nipping with his teeth. His hand wanders and finds the zipper at the small of her back, tugging to part her dress in one smooth pull. Black lace spills open and pools at her feet, and with the dim glow from her desk lamp spilling gold across her skin, Mazie looks like statues of ancient, almighty goddesses come to life.
His throat runs dry at the hunger and affection in her gaze, wanting and wicked all at once, drawing him closer with just one look. “Jesus, Mazie,” he breathes hoarsely, hardly louder than a whisper as he drinks in the sight of her. “You are so damn beautiful.”
“Am I?” She sprawls across her bed and watches him with lidded eyes.
Zig follows, planting his hands beside her hips and crawling slowly up the length of her body, pausing to drop kisses along her ribs. “Every part of you.” It takes him only a few seconds to work the latches of her bra, freeing her breasts to his worshipping mouth.
Her hips roll beneath him as she gasps, gripping handfuls of his hair. “Mmn, that’s… sweet,” she sighs, and breathes a shivery laugh. She slips her hands under his shirt, teasing fingertips along the muscles in his chest before tugging him down into another kiss. Her skin is warm and soft beneath his palms, and always bruises so easily to his teeth, love bites that blossom violet red along her throat.
She tears him from his clothes with urgent touches, locking slender legs around his hips to keep him close. He knows his pulse is racing from the tremble to his hands, desperate to get the last slip of cotton down her hips and bare every beautiful inch of her. The music pounds outside, and he ignores it in favor of hunting hungry kisses up her thighs. Mazie is a masterpiece of breathy moans and soft skin, slick and eager when he finds the heat between her legs, drawing a groan from deep in his throat.
“Ah!” Her breath breaks into a harsh gasp at the first touch of his fingers, spine arching in pleasure. “Zig!”
He hums against her skin, determined to watch her fall apart first, but her fingers tug impatiently at the roots of his hair.
“Need you,” she whines, pulling until he reluctantly eases off and lifts his head to meet her lidded gaze. “I can’t wait any more-!”
How could he ever possibly refuse her what she wants? He rises to catch her in a deep kiss, lacing their fingers just before he fits their hips together. Sliding home is always the most exhilarating rush, like having all the breath stolen from his lungs and feeling like he doesn’t need it, like he could go forever, never breathing anything but warmth and honey. He sinks in slowly, tense with the restraint it takes, captivated by her frenzied noises and the bliss that plays across her features.
“Fuck-!” He doesn’t mean to, but the word slips out, and she whimpers in something like vague agreement, winding her fingers up the nape of his neck to seize a fistful of his hair. Her name stutters on his tongue, muffled against her shoulder as he gives a lazy thrust.
The wail of a guitar outside drowns every noise. It dims their voices into stolen whispers, broken fragments of reverence and need between the rapidfire drumbeat. His breath comes in short gasps as he nips at her throat, drinking down each moan and sob that catches there.
Already he can feel her body tensing beneath him - around him - her muscles coiling in anticipation. She begs him not to stop, dark hair spilled out against the sheets, her nails biting into his sides as he sets an urgent rhythm. Her eyes slip shut, and a litany of please, Zig, please spills rushed and frenzied from her lips.
Anything, he wants to say. The world, my life, you name it.
Then Mazie gasps and arches as she falls apart, drawn taut with pleasure, hips shaking through the rush of going under. Zig grits another curse through his teeth. The feel of her around him, and the fucked-out relief in her expression, the wild cries of his name - he can only take so much before he follows after, seizing up into a tight line when he does. His pulse races and fills his ears, and he unravels with each frantic beat, unable to suppress a wounded groan.
Mazie frames his face between her hands as he comes back down. He tilts his head against hers, and they catch their breath together, his body slowly easing. Her fingertips trace lovingly along his jaw, reaching up to brush the hair from his face before she presses a gentle kiss to his lips.
They linger in the warmth and comfort until the last song draws to its final notes, followed by a resounding wave of cheers and applause. He feels her fingers drifting languidly down his spine, hears her regretful hum beneath his ear, where her heartbeat has only just wound down.
“We should get back out there,” she murmurs, her voice rough and hushed. “Celebrate with the band.”
Zig showers her with tipsy kisses, smirking when he wins the sound of her laughter. Stays just a few moments longer to enjoy her body heat, the smell of honey, and that smile he adores.